Worth A Thousand
by spiritgununicorn
Summary: Sora wanted to remember everything, but it was difficult and he needed time. Why couldn't he remember!


Rating: K+  
Pairing: None specified but if you squint real hard there is a Kairi/Sora/Riku OT3 happening~  
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, but I own the game they came from. Damn I wish I worked at SquareEnix.  
Summary: There was a cacophony of colors, sights, sounds, and smells that assaulted him. They were remnants of memories; things he couldn't remember but wished to.  
Notes: I just wanted to write a small Soracentric drabble. This was crossposted at my tumblr, but I also wanted to have it here. Hope you all enjoy.

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Worth A Thousand _

There was a cacophony of colors, sights, sounds, and smells that assaulted him. They were remnants of memories; things he couldn't remember but wished to. He pressed his hand against the rows and rows of pictures that were pinned, taped, and nailed into the walls of his bedroom. He was young, only sixteen but the people and the friends that he made were now fragments to him due to his "accident."

He didn't know of the things he'd done, the adventures he'd been on, and the links that he had formed. His name meant Sky; a mirror to how high he felt he could reach, how free and light he could possibly feel, how beautiful his soul seemed to others, and how inspirational he could be to those who knew him well.

He was lost for weeks; his mind a dark space of emptiness that had no end and scared him more than he could even fathom. It was a lonely existence, not to know anyone who came to see him, even those who were of blood and who were not but just as close. He wanted to say yes, he knew who they were to see them smile, but there was something in him that was just so impeccably honest that he could not.

So for weeks after he was attacked viciously by Heartless, Nobodies, Unversed, and a man whom called himself Xehanort, Sora found himself in the Destiny Islands' Hospital underneath sterile covers in a cold room with a woman, presumably his mother, holding his hand tightly. She watched him for hours on end, not knowing the details of her son's crazy lifestyle only that he was involved in something much bigger than she could possibly understand.

When Sora finally awoke, she jumped up from her seat beside her sons' bed and grabbed him. She hugged him for dear life and spewed nonsense into his ear in order to guard him from the reality of what he'd done. She protected her son as best as she could because his friends were still out there fighting darkness, even though they had just lost their precious sign of light. But of course Sora didn't know anything and just went with it; the only thing he did not do was lie about the fact that he didn't know who this woman or anyone else was.

Everything and everyone was foreign to him; it was positively suffocating. He wanted to know who he was, what he was up to prior to the memory loss, and more importantly why this had befallen him. Sora got angry constantly sitting in the hospital bed, waiting to remember or at least trying to remember but nothing ever made a breakthrough.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

And then several months later he was released from the hospital; darkness was overflowing in the worlds but there was nothing anyone else could do. They lost one fighter for the light due to Xehanort's plans, and they were shielding him back in his home world. Purposely, King Mickey had closed the door from the Destiny Islands to the rest of the worlds until Sora would be alright again. If he could just put himself back together again like once before…

Sora found himself standing in the room—his bedroom as his mother stated. She gave him a slight push, hoping that standing in the middle of it would somehow jog his memories but alas it did not. She sighed in disappointment and despair, but then gave a harlequin smile and told him to take his time. She would settle down in the kitchen, having a long sip of the fine wine to drink her sorrows and apologies away.

The teen merely nodded—in truth he had not a care what that woman who called himself her mother said. He was just really glad to be out of the hospital and surrounded by walls that were of a much more tranquil colors, and felt oddly of him. His essence was in this room, and Sora could practically feel it. The only problem was trying to stitch himself back together.

On a far wall, his attention was caught as a slew of photographs were positioned and tacked up on the wall in the shape of a gigantic paopu. There were two main people in the pictures and he guessed that they could only be his friends. He was laughing and smiling gleefully in the pictures, and one by one he began to take them off the wall only to put them back after getting a feel of the picture.

Sora figured that if he touched the photographs one by one long enough so that the memories that were held inside would spring forth and envelop his mind. Unfortunate that magic like that didn't exist, and with a huff of frustration he stopped touching the photos. He laid on the bed, putting his hands behind his head and gazed up at the pictures. After staring too long, it felt like the pictures were watching him and the mouths of each participant was suddenly moving in an attempt to talk.

"That would be weird." He said as he snorted then sat up. He continued to look all around the room, wanting to find something that would help him, but alas nothing seemed to work. His eyes would be drawn back to the mural of photographs on his wall, and the next time he did he placed his hands against them as well as his forehead. Slowly he closed his eyes and wished with all of his might that he could remember all of those people who were important—whom he was connected to and whose hearts he had a place in.

Suddenly, a light assaulted his vision. Cautiously, Sora opened one eye and then the other before looking down at a light beaming from his chest. It was his heart! It was responding to his wish—to his prayer for help! He didn't know what to do and practically fell backward onto the mattress, clutching at his chest. It was odd; he didn't feel any pain or any disturbance in his chest. There was just this…warmth and the feeling that everything was going to be fine.

He took a deep breath before swallowing and then closed his eyes again. He muttered to himself about picking up the pieces and lining them up again. Sora knew he could do this; he just had to do this.

Slowly but surely the pictures that he saw on the wall flew around in his mind. They fluttered like birds and beckoned Sora to follow. If only he would catch them!

Sora felt a little silly as he reached out to grab one. They were imaginary in the material world, but in his mind he could feel the photograph. It was odd that the one he picked up was not of himself but of some other guy. The picture began to move in real time and the guy in photo stepped out of it to chastise him.

"Sleeping again, Sora? You're suppose to be a good other you know. You can't let them down. Think. Who are you? What's the most important thing? Who do you cherish?"

Sora's eyes were closed in the real world, and in both realms he frowned at the questions. In his mind, he tapped on his chin in thought and then smiled happily at the guy in front of him. "That's easy. I'm Sora. My friends and family are the most important things in my life. I cherish every single one of them. Right here!" He pointed to his heart which felt another rush of warmth and he was surprised.

"Whoa—what?" Sora readily touched his chest again.

The guy smiled and tilted his head. "Good answer, but you've got to unlock more with the key."

Sora blinked several times over, confused by the words as the guy now faded away. "Roxas, wait!" He lurched forward to grab him surprised by the fact that he knew his name when he originally didn't know his own. He muttered "Roxas" again before shaking his head and then thinking of a "key."

Once again that mysterious light shone in his chest, this time much brighter within the confines of his mind and so he continued to think about this mysterious key. "Does it…unlock hearts?" He asked out loud both within his mind and outside of it. The illumination grew brighter still; he was so close to the answer that his chest was becoming a new fixture—completely unintentional. "A key that can unlock hearts…unlocks memories…is it always good?"

It dimmed slightly in response just as his hand began to throb with the weight of an imaginary weapon. It felt like metal, but it wasn't unbearably heavy. Sora had to grip it with both hands however, and a range of emotions welled within him. The one that stuck with him was a fierce protectiveness for the people in the photographs. He didn't know their names yet, but he was getting close. He could practically taste their names on his tongue.

The girl was sweet, sensational, cheerful, and bright. Her name was calming and tended to lilt just a little like a song. It reminded him of the water he could hear from his bedroom window and the shape of the fruit that the pictures created. "Kairi…" he whispered, and the outline of a girl in pink filled his mind. Her shadow heart shone with a soft light; a heart he could imagine that a pure girl like her would have.

The boy was tough, brusque, and sometimes very hard to handle. His name was sturdy, sheltering, and sounded as if it were to make him stand tall. Sora was reminded of wooden sword fights, races that he could barely win, and laughter that was reserved for only him and Kairi. He was also reminded of dark battles and being both saved and doing the saving. They had a troubled past, but had been able to push through and see the light. "Riku…" he whispered, and joining the girl's pink outline was a boy in blue.

Both of their hearts were cast in a soft light, and slowly but surely they became real people instead of shadows. In Sora's mind, he ran to them both—hugging them tight because he was afraid to let go. He didn't want to be left in the darkness, he wanted to go with them into the light. He wanted to help them, help everyone else, and help himself. He wanted the light—he needed the light.

The weight of a sword tugged at him, and Sora pulled away from the memories of his friends. He looked down to see a giant key within his hand and his eyes widened. "The keyblade!" He shouted as he grinned.

He finally understood what it was that he had to do—something he had done before to free not only himself but others as well. He poised the head of the keyblade at his heart, and passed it through his chest to unlock his heart. The memories sprang out like a fountain and wrapped around his mind.

In real time, only ten minutes passed for Sora to regain his memories and to remember who he was. With a cheerful cry, he jumped out of bed and redressed himself. He kissed his parents on the cheek before running out of the house and grabbing a boat. He needed to go to the island where they usually played—Sora, Riku, and Kairi. Not to mention Selphie, Wakka, and Tidus too.

Sora laughed as he felt a surge of power run through his body—a warmth that tingled and made him feel safe. All he had to do now was open a door and greet his friends in another world. He could do it; he could help them this time. He wouldn't lose—he would be strong.

Together…they could all be strong.


End file.
